


The Silver Witch

by VileDrakanguis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Central America, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Furry, High Fantasy, Magic, Revenge, Romance, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22697017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VileDrakanguis/pseuds/VileDrakanguis
Summary: Note: The Silver Witch lives on, but this medium has been abandoned. Read The Silver Witch comic here: https://www.furaffinity.net/gallery/vilesnakeman/folder/782350/The-WeakThe weak are meat, and the strong do eat.In the depths of the Amazon, in each of the many isolated kingdoms in the tenuous confederacy, weakness is not tolerated. Life is constantly threatened by the monsters that saturate the forest, and the golden sun of war is always seconds from dawn. Everyone must be strong; weakness is liability.The gods Gaia and Xale smile when they create some. Those with pure souls are made beautiful, agile, and strong. And those whose souls are tainted and wrong are made hideous, weak, and sickly.Elymas the Silver is not favored by the gods.





	1. The weak

A very great many things are expected of the son of a king. Fortunately, the king has no son.

16 years ago that same day, a new child graced the city of Tikal, capitol of the Parime Kingdom. A fox, fur unnaturally silver, body unnaturally small, and on his lip a minor but accursed cleft. The gods did not smile upon this one. And today, nobody smiled on him. The day that a boy becomes a man is sacred and celebrated, but not for one like Elymas. He had a lot of leather to work that day, so no time for celebration, not that he had anyone to celebrate with.

He wove through the stone city. His short stature and dark fur was useful to keep rude stares off of him, but he took alleys and backstreets anyway to get from the children's dorm to his place of work. He had enough saved to leave the city, but he didn't need to be more cursed than he already was. The gods would scowl at him if he left before his trial of adulthood, the dreaded event of the day.

Dark clouds were especially thick in his mind that day. Anxiety will do that to a man. So perhaps things seemed worse than they were, he thought, as someone suddenly blocked his path.

"Hey!" She said accusingly. A salamander, stark white. Adorable in just about every regard. The gods were smiling when they made her. "What do you think you're doing, walking off today of all days?"

"Hey Nicty," he greeted. His voice was distorted by his lip, and wavered with adolescence. "I'd love to stick around the dorm, but a big hunting party went out yesterday and I need to help work the leather or it'll be my hide getting tanned next. Why did you leave? I'm sure everyone's wondering where you are."

"Because I was wondering where you were, idiot," she complained, crossing her arms. "How am I supposed to enjoy my 16th birthday if you're not around? We've talked about this since we were kids, all the fun we were gonna have today. You're lucky your route to work is the first place I checked."

"Come on. If I went back it'd be your celebration, not ours. Everyone would just wonder why you brought me along, like they always do."

"What, are you a mind reader now? I'm not the only person in the world who likes having you around, you know."

"The headmaster doesn't count."

"Even if he doesn't," she insisted.

That gave Elymas some pause. His identity was built on his solitude, and he didn't like it being challenged. "No, still. This isn't a day of celebration for me. I'm going to lose my trial and be banished. The less reason I have to remember today, the better."

Nicte frowned at that, and it was her turn to have pause. "No way, dude. If I can't convince you to come back..." her expression brightened. "Why don't we just go off on our own, and have our own celebration?"

Elymas thought for a short time, then let out a frustrated puff. "Okay, okay, fine. You're lucky I like you. I'll come get you once I finish with the leather."

She shook her head. "No way, that'll take forever. I want to help."

"Seriously? You want to spend today, of all days, tanning hide?"

"I want to spend today with you, like we always talked about."

That just got him to roll his eyes. "I hate how nice you are to me. I'm never going to manage to say no to you."

Elymas started walking past her, and motioned for her to join him. She clung to his arm like a magnet.

"You're nice too, Ely, you just don't like to show it," she insisted.


	2. The Witch Trial

Honesty is a virtue, Elymas thought. Honesty is a virtue, he thought again, with a glance to his friend Nicte.

They were done; all the hide was set for the time being. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who "thought" to bring help. The other two apprentices and even his master brought friends, which graciously spared him an explanation of why he brought Nicte with him. And the combined eight of them got through it all quite quickly. The sun was still very much up; his trial wasn't for hours.

"Hey Nicty," he whispered to her as they all left the tannery for the day. But not before collecting the day's pay. "I'm- ... Can I show you something?"

The salamander had a faint flush on her face, and hesitated to nod. "Sure, Ely."

Once again, he walked past her and motioned for her to follow, and once again she clung to his arm. It wasn't something she did for just anyone, or anyone else at all for that matter, but isolated Elymas never noticed.

He led her far from that tannery, navigating once again the uncobbled alleys between grey brick buildings. Though their route became more and more obscure, straying outwards from the city center.

"Where are we going, Ely?" She asked.

"Someplace hidden," he answered.

The flush on her face reappeared, deeper this time. "O-oh."

Someplace hidden was right. Next they squeezed through an extremely narrow alley, which opened into a tight space in the center of a square of four buildings. In the center was a trap door. "I think this used to be some maintenance thing, but nobody's ever been down here since I found it," Elymas explained as he pried the hatch open. A wooden ladder, clearly homemade, descended into uncertain depths.

"What are we doing here?" Nicte wondered.

"You'll see," Elymas said as he climbed down into the hatch, and motioned for her to follow.

"I think I know," she said with another play of red over her white face and a slight anxious squirm, but when she looked back her Ely was already in the hole, not listening. She followed him down with a pouty huff.

At the bottom was a small portion of tunnel. The floor was flat and the roof was arched, but it ended abruptly at either end. They both had plenty of room, relatively speaking, but much of the space was cluttered with odd plants and minerals, and even the materials for fire starting, a cauldron, and a humble mattress, which Nicte took a seat on.

"Is this where you've been spending all those nights away? You should be working in an apothecary with a collection like this."

Elymas was still working up the nerve to say what he needed to, and didn't respond. His dear friend, ever attuned to him picked up on his nervousness.

"So, umm," she continued. Her face was just red now, no subtle flush. She repeatedly glanced away from and back to Elymas. "I know what we're here for."

"What? How?"

She giggled. "Well, I guess I just know you better than you think," she teased. "I've never done this before, but," she reached down, grabbed the bottom of her loincloth, as if she was about to lift it. "I'm glad you'll be my first."

"I'm a witch," Elymas blurted.

Stillness fell over them both. "What?" Nicte eventually managed, as if she might have misheard.

"A witch. That's what all this is." He gestured to his collection. "It's just, I don't want to leave today. I want to somehow use witchcraft to pass my trial, and stay here." He swallowed. "With you."

Her mouth hung open as she processed what she was hearing, and reevaluated the room as she looked around again. She thought to take her hand off her loincloth and stand to face her friend. "But Elymas, this... This can't work. The gods would curse you if you cheated on your trial!"

"What, double curse me? The point of the trial is to prove I'm strong enough. And I'm not. I'm useless with my spear, every style the headmaster tried to teach me. But this," he gestured to his things. "This is the only hope I have. I can prove my strength to the city and the gods, because I am a strong witch. And if my strength is accepted, then maybe we can get married, like we always talked about."

"Witchcraft is forbidden!" Nicte insisted. "I was going to lose my trial and be banished with you. That plan would have worked, we could be together!"

"Never! You're the best with a naginata in the whole city. You'd never fail the trial, nobody would believe it. And I'd never force you to share your fate with me."

"But I want to share my fate with you, Ely. It's the only thing in the world that I want. Please don't do this."

"I won't make you wander the world with me. I'd rather be exiled alone as a witch than be banished and have to watch you live this same hell. I'm not the only man in the world, and I'm not the best of them either."

"How can you say that?" Nicte pleaded. Tears were in her eyes. "You're the only Ely in the world. You're the only one who's been there for me my entire life. I don't care how you were born or how strong you are or what anyone else thinks!"

"Then who cares what the gods think? If I they scowl on me then so be it. As long as the city accepts me then we can be together, without the humiliation of banishment."

"Ely, that's-" she was cut off when a sob escaped her throat, and she covered her mouth. "I need to leave!"

She hurried up the ladder, and Elymas watched her go. Tears were in his eyes now, but he blinked them away. This was the only solution to his curse, he thought. This redemption was his destiny.

He purged the thoughts of Nicty from his mind, drowned them with the tainted work of witchcraft. The abuse of the natural magics found in everything.

He built a fire, and threw in items from his collection.

"Upon silver coin I burn bark of oak,

"To the heavens I send offerings in smoke,

"With gnarled fingers and an eye's deep scorn,

"Bring to me a mighty storm."

He completed his chant, and sighed. It would take time for that to blow in, he thought. A silver coin, oak bark, froarg fingers, and ryguar taileye. An expensive spell, but worth it.

He'd intended to show that to Nicty, if she'd been more-

He interrupted his thoughts by placing his cauldron atop the fire, and slowly watched the water come to a boil.

* * *

Lightning cracked across the sky as the war drums started up. Rain poured down on the arena, and the man who stood in its center. The trial overseer, club in hand. One figure, opposite from the ordinary spectators, sat alone beneath cover. The King of Parime. A jaguar. The crown that signalled him as king wasn't a typical one. Two branches framed his face, and met on his forehead in a large golden spike.

They must be here for Nicty, Elymas thought. Nobody, let alone the king himself, would think to stop by for his trial. This was better for him, he thought. Surely the king would see reason when he demonstrated his power, and nobody would be able to say otherwise.

He couldn't help but scan the crowd for anyone that might be his parents. The newly ordained adults are meant to meet them after they pass their trial, but it was hard to see who might look like him. It was astronomically unlikely his parents were the same species as him, which made things difficult.

To his surprise, when the overseer called, it wasn't for her. "I bring before the gods Elymas the Silver."

Elymas swallowed his shock at being first up, and stepped out of the challengers' quarters towards the overseer. Nicty was in there too, but they didn't speak a word to each other.

He wore the ceremonial armor of a trial. Leather, painted in swirling patterns of blue and red. His spear was his own, long, wooden, and tipped with obsidian. At his hip hung a wooden box.

"Elymas the silver, do you accept the impending judgement of the gods?"

"Yes."

"Then let us begin."

As is typical, the overseer made the first move. Very obvious, he telegraphed his attack from the start. Even Elymas could parry it, and he did. But the overseer jumped back from his range before the counterattack could land.

"Your stance is open," the overseer warned.

"I know," Elymas lied, and made sure not to fix it. He'd prefer to look like he was planning something.

The overseer charged in again. It was clear he was going for that opening, but it wasn't so obvious how he was going to hit it.

His hand left his spear. An utter mistake, the overseer thought, but he hesitated when he saw Elymas' hand go to the wooden box at his hip.

In that split second, he pulled from the box a glass bottle full of fluid, and fumbled it. It shattered on the ground, and its contents spilled right before his feet.

The overseer showed no mercy. Elymas' attack was parried, and the overseer's counterattack was a fierce swing of his club towards the fox's head. And then the world flipped on its side, as it is not known to do.

That liquid had frozen somehow, right on the ground the overseer had to use for footing. He didn't have much time to contemplate it as a spear hurtled towards his throat. He rolled frantically out of the way, and leaped to his feet as soon as that attack missed. Shards of glass were inbed into the back of his armor.

"What was that," the overseer asked, but to no answer. The audience was dead silent at the unexpected turn, and the king narrowed his eyes.

The next move was Elymas', he charged with his spear. The club swung down, aiming to snap the longer weapon in half. And it did hit, but not before Elymas released the spear in on hand. All the strike did was tilt his weapon down as it simply pivoted in the one-hand grip.

His free hand retrieved another bottle, this one he hurled right at the overseer's legs. But with a simple side step the bottle simply sailed in between, shattering behind him. And subsequently exploding. It was a very unpleasant spell for Elymas to discover, but the same went double for the executioner ashe was thrown onto his front.

He tried to get away and get up, but dreadfully, he felt something shatter on his back. And he felt himself pinned to the ground, unable to get up. It was like he was glued to the spot, but there was clearly nothing between him and solid ground.

The tip of the spear poked the back of his neck. "Yield," Elymas demanded.

"Witch!" The overseer cried back. His voice was joined by more from the crowd.

"Is this not strength!?" Elymas demanded of them, stepping up onto the grounded overseer. "Have I not defeated the overseer as ordained by the gods!?"

He was not met with an answer, only more chanting. He pointed accusingly at the king. "Will you be as dogmatic as these fools!?"

From the king, he was met with silence. Both from him and his guards. But the silver witch waited expectantly.

Many long seconds passed in the rain. They stared at each other.

The king eventually stood, and called his personal verdict. A very rare honor at a trial of adulthood. "Your victory was swift and complete, even after the overseer failed to restrain himself. I, King Alinex, acknowledge the immense strength and prowess of Elymas the Silver."

Relief washed over him, and he began to look towards the challengers' quarters, where Nicte watched with wide eyes.

"And I hereby eternally exile him for witchcraft."


	3. The Red Witch

Two years since the Silver Witch was struck from Tikal, a silver fox stumbled onto a road. He was small for his age, to be sure, but taller. And wiry muscle rippled beneath dirty but not filthy fur. He'd kept his armor operable, and even wore it now, but deep scores and punctures betrayed his encounters with monsters. And, even worse, the night creatures said to appear when one performs magic in the dark. He held no spear. A bundle of hide forming a rough bag hung at either hip, both stuffed with many fist-sized round vessels, but it was impossible to see inside and discern any more.

"This must be it," Elymas muttered to himself. A small habit of his, he took to talking to himself. Either in preservation of his sanity or as evidence of its loss.

There is a key distinction to be made between banishment and exile. The banished are simply to leave the city, and reserve themselves to the slums of elsewhere. But the exiled, they are left to Gaia herself. They are sent into the wild, and whatever happens to them is precisely as willed.

Elymas looked up, then to the trees, then at the ground. Eyes hardened by experience reoriented him. He found North, and he picked his direction. Mere paths were a rare luxury, let alone an entire road. And nothing could get him where he was going faster.

The trial of adulthood was but the first trial the witch faced. And the easiest. Best a mundane warrior, and get exiled in proving his strength to the world. He accepted by now that he lied about it. His love for his Nicty was the all but the truest thing he knew. But that play wasn't to spare her banishment, or to secure their future. He'd happily be banished to the moon if she was with him. It was for him. His power found in witchcraft gave him a taste of pride, and he wanted more. He wanted his pride in himself to be unconditional, not a reminder of where he lacked in "things that matter."

His right paw poked through the bag at his right hip. He'd procure a small clay vessel, observe the symbol painted upon it in red, and put it back. "Here you are," he muttered again when he found the one he was looking for, and carelessly tossed it aside, where it shattered against the bark of a tree.

The witch's greatest enemy turned out to be perfection itself. He lacked it, and he craved it. There was not a thing about him that was perfect, so he poured perfection into his actions. Gaia would accept no such thing. He had to compromise and settle and revise constantly in exchange for survival. The absurd structure of perfection shed from him like one shrugs off a heavy pack, and his soul stood straighter for it.

The silver of his fur was replaced with stereotypical orange. His limbs filled out, more like a strong warrior than a skinny young man. And that cleft that permanently exposed a portion of his teeth filled in. A small enchantment, surprisingly so. But the one that hides his most recognizable features. Very important, for his destination. "Last one," he reminded himself.

He discovered magic's terrible dangers. He'd long understood its volatility, how he had to resist and force the natural magics to behave as he intended as they lashed out every which way. But, only casting magic in that well-lit, dry hovel of his, and simply releasing it elsewhere, he didn't understand its true consequences. It was among his earlier nights that he again practiced witchcraft, and the consequences were immediate and severe. From the darkness beyond his shelter, a creature far more terrible than any monster manifested from shadow. A night creature. It didn't flee or perish or even be harmed by his magic, it was truly immune. Without his spear, he'd be dead. And much the same thing occurred when he attempted the same thing, better lit, after a rainy night. Abyssal terrors, masses of black tentacles and teeth and glowing red eyes, emerged from puddles not even an inch deep. They too were immune to his magic, and again his spear narrowly saved his life.

The road became populated. First a man passed on a cart pulled by a cockatrice. Elymas offered him a wave, and he wordlessly recieved one back. And then they both passed, and never saw each other again. Regardless, his first interaction with another person in two years was a thrill. "I'll talk to the next one," he vowed.

The next one, it turned out, was an hour away. The apparently red fox was alone on the road, but he relished the luxury. Far, far easier than the dense jungle he navigated to get here.

The road merged with another, headed to the same destination. To the witch's luck, a wagon pulled up beside him, pulled also by a cockatrice, headed up the other road. "Hello," he greeted, with a wave to the driver. At once, he became aware of his cleft. Although it was hidden by illusion, its effect on his voice was subtle and nigh-unnoticable as he grew. But he noticed it. A cut scored his illusion, in the same spot as his cleft. Nobody would question such a small wound on an apparent warrior.

The driver turned in his seat, looking to the side of his wagon where Elymas appeared. "Oh, hello!" The man greeted. A sea lion. "Where'd you come from?"

"The road merged a second ago," Elymas explained. His voice sounded odd, and as if by habit insecurity was first into his mind, but he realized quickly someone else spoke at the same time as him. He ducked down as he walked to look beneath the cart, and sure enough, a pair of reptilian legs walked on the other side.

"It did? Oh we must be farther along than I thought!" The man faced forward again, and it sounded like he was unfurling a piece of parchment. "Nalia! We're ahead of schedule!"

"Great to hear, boss," the woman on the other side of the cart said. Her voice betrayed her enthusiasm, or lack thereof. Must be on a contract, Elymas figured.

"Ah, where are my manners," the silver witch reminded himself. "My name is Elymas, I'm a monster hunter. Sadly I'm on my way back from a hunt gone sour, hoping to resupply in town."

"A monster hunter!" The driver exclaimed. "Why, I'm the safest merchant in the world with _two_ monster hunters escorting me through the jungle! Even if one is unarmed."

Silence passed as both he and "Nalia" waited for the merchant to give his name.

"... Well, I'm Nalia, and for the past two weeks I've been escorting the esteemed Mr. Rbali through the jungle. No excitement, but we heard a ryguar last night."

"Might be the same one that broke my spear," Elymas mused. Or, pretended to muse.

"You were hunting a ryguar?" The other hunter asked incredulously. Elymas heard her pace slow, so she could walk around behind the cart and get a look at her contemporary.

She was an alligator. Or maybe a crocodile, Elymas didn't actually know the difference. She was armored as well, but her armor was heavier, a combination of leather and iron. It must have been hell to travel in, with the heat.

Elymas offered her a smile and wave, while she scrutinized the idiot that tried to hunt a ryguar solo.

"What's in the bags?" She asked, gesturing to the bags at his hips.

"Supplies," Elymas answered preparedly. "It helps long trips go smoothly to have extra."

"Right." She caught up to walk beside him. She was a good 6 inches taller than him. "And what possessed you to challenge a ryguar by yourself? You're lucky to be walking along with only a cut on your lip."

"Am I? It really stings," Elymas joked. "Their taileye is very useful, which means it's very valuable. All their other bits are just novelty, but fat cats still like to buy them up for a nice price."

"What on Earth is the taileye good for? It's just a blob of mush after a day."

"Apothecaries can make medicine out of it. Don't ask me how it works, not my field."

"All this time I've been throwing the damn things out," she complained. "But that still doesn't answer my question. Are you seriously strong enough to fight a ryguar on your own?"

"What can I say? I'm good with a spear. And you get a feel for how their lightning works pretty quickly, makes it easy to counter."

"'Makes it easy to counter,' he says," she said, feigning annoyance.

The two of them talked shop for hours as they moved into the city, with the occasional interjection from the merchant about something or another. They got along quite well, though Nalia was the prickly sort. It was easy for Elymas to power through, he was more starved for social interaction than he was offended by her sarcasm and light jabs.

He was amazed at how easy it was. Red fur, thicker limbs, and a cut in place of his cleft, and he made a friend. It made him loathe his curse that much more.

The sea lion merchant paid them both as they entered the city proper. Elymas was not in a position to deny it, he needed money.

He prepared to say his goodbyes with Nalia as the two of them watched his cart wheel off, deeper into the late dusk. But, she spoke first.

"I need a bath," she said. "You want to come with?"

"Yes, I'd love to," Elymas was quick to agree, and his tail even wagged at the thought. "I havent been out long but it feels like I haven't had a proper bath in years. My fur needs a soak. Do you know of any nice bath houses in the area?"

The gator smirked at the sight of his wagging tail. "I do, actually. My sister runs one. It's closed, but I have a key. Means we get in for free."

She walked off, and motioned for him to follow.

"Is that alright by her? I'd hate to offend."

"Of course it is. It's not like we're going to trash the place, we're just soaking in the water that's there whether we go or not."

"Fair point," Elymas conceded easily, and went along after her.

* * *

The establishment was humble. It was a decently sized building, and doubled as an inn, but the bath by which it was defined was on the small side. Room for perhaps 5 people, comfortably.

Nalia was first to stow her things and her clothes and get inside. Nudity was no strange thing in the Amazon, the bath was coed. Elymas took slightly longer, as his bulky bags were difficult to store in one of the chests. But, soon enough, his clothes and belongings were stored, he rinsed himself off, and he exited the building into the outdoor bath courtyard.

Though the bath was humble in size, it was nicely laid. Rectangular, with benches along either long side, where a person could comfortably sit with water up to their chest or shoulders. It was rather private, with the back of one building on one side and the walls of the bathhouse/inn surrounding the other three.

Before Elymas entered, Nalia's eyes focused rudely between his legs. She whistled, "Hey there, big man," she teased.

"How rude," Elymas complained lightheartedly as he got in the water across from her. "You don't see me staring at and commenting on your chest, do you?"

For mammals, breasts were a guarantee, as both their animal and human halves had them. But, for everything else, it was a roll of the dice. This alligator rolled quite favorably, as far as Elymas' tastes went.

"Maybe you should," she countered coyly.

"Oh stop, you'll make me blush," he joked as he looked away from her entirely, off to the side. And, if he could blush through his fur, he wouldn't be lying. That exchange got away from him, he thought, and he beat himself up for not catching on to her interest sooner. Nicte was one thing, with her adorable acts of affection and love, but he was completely unprepared for someone outright wanting to jump his bones.

"How am I going to share a bath with a strong, hung hunter and not try to show him a good time?" She kept up her forward brand of flirting, not picking up on Elymas' sudden plunge into confusion.

For his flaws, that witch knew how to keep up a facade. For better or worse. "I understand, but I'd like to at least bathe a little before I bend a sweet little reptile over," his heart stopped at what he'd just said.

What kind of promiscuous character am I playing, he asked himself. Nicty is the only girl he'd-

He purged those thoughts from his mind with action. "But once we're relaxed let's head back to your place. It's bad luck to screw in a bath."

His soul left his body. This had never happened before. The face he wore for most of his life, Elymas the Silver, that weak, deformed thing, served exactly the purpose he wanted it to and it never once got away from him. But this face, Elymas the Red, the badass, mysterious monster hunter who's able to get some meat on his bones and can actually use a spear, it almost wore itself.

This face was just meant to be who he wished he was, who he would be if he could just be normal, not...

He looked back at Nalia. Only a second had passed, those thoughts raced through his head in that time, and came to a reflective halt.

"'Sweet little reptile?' Leave it to the ryguar hunter to call me little," she laughed. "Fine, we can wait. But you'd better wreck me if you're going to talk to me like that."

That voice in Elymas' head died when he heard that, and looked over Nalia's naked body. Nothing got away from him. This is exactly what he signed up for, he was acting like who he wanted to be. He wanted to be the type of man to meet a girl and end up in her bedroom that same night. He craved that admiration and attention. He was disgusted with himself as he realized this, the basic mundanity of his desires. For all of his power, and all of his ambition, and all of his love for Nicty, he just wanted to fuck, and have fun for a night.

But not a flash of this was seen on his face. Elymas the Red didn't have such doubts. Elymas the Red wasn't some weak, silver thing dreaming of recognition. Elymas the Red had recognition, and confidence, and purpose, and understanding, and skill.

"Careful what you wish for, wouldn't want to wake the neighbors."

A part of him died.


	4. The Gold Witch

Elymas awoke with a naked alligator on top of him, snoozing away. Her sout was tucked in to the fluffy crook of his neck and shoulder, and his arms were wrapped around her. First he was jarred, he didn't recognize this woman or the room he was in. Then he was comfortable, as he remembered the events of the night prior, and simply enjoyed the feeling of a mattress beneath him and a blanket over him. Then he was sick, as he comprehended what he'd done. The Amazon did not place much emphasis on virginity, but Elymas couldn't help but feel sentimental about it. He'd fantasized about him and Nicty sharing their first time, clumsily making their way through the experience together. That will never happen.

Guilt was in his stomach. Like a black hole, it felt like it was devouring him. Who was he, really? He'd romanticized himself as if he was Nicty's forbidden lover, with eyes only for her. What a farce. The mask he put on, the mask of an attractive man, wasn't a covering. It was a hole in his mask, from which his true self slithered out. And... Just who was his true self, Elymas wondered?

He tilted his head, and gently nipped the delicate scales of the alligator's neck. He wasn't even attracted to her, not really. He played along with her advances because... Why? Did he even have a reason for betraying Nicty?

She stirred on top of him, but Elymas was already pulled back into his thoughts. He closed his eyes, and tried to get a grip on who he truly was, who he truly wanted to be. And that turned out to be hard. Why not start with what he wanted to look like? That much was easy. He pictured himself. First, the cleft was struck from his face. That terrible, loathed blemish. He hated it. He was relieved to see it go. And then he turned his fur red. Normal, as it should be. Nobody likes a silver fox, but a red fox is noble and iconic. But he still wasn't happy, he was just his tiny, frail self, but no longer deformed. So he made himself bigger, he filled out his limbs just as he did the illusion he put on himself. Still not perfect. Then he was tall. Really tall, the tallest person he'd ever seen. Seven feet tall. No, that's gratuitous. Six foot ten. And he filled out the limbs some more, to offset the lankiness, but not too much. The end result was the ideal fox. Tall, strong, visibly agile, genetically flawless.

... Now how did this creature act? The same roadblock. An avatar for it didn't help. But now he was stuck with that problem until Nalia woke up. He could have jostled her awake, but he wasn't in as much of a hurry to leave as he'dd convinced himself he was. 

That Elymas was... A womanizer, certainly. That creature was what pushed him to have sex with a woman he just met. Did he love Nicty? No, Elymas thought immediately, then his thoughts froze. He knew for a fact he loved his Nicty, that wasn't the issue. So easily, he'd just made this avatar into a demon on his shoulder. As if he could dump all of his perceived flaws into it. This is supposed to be his real self and he does. Love. Nicty.

"Ely?"

Elymas looked down, Nalia was looking up. "What are you baring your teeth at?"

"Don't call me that," was Elymas' only answer.

"Right," she said, rubbing her eyes. "You told me not to last night, too, but you didn't tell me why. Does my big tough foxy not like his pet name?"

"No," he countered, his tone stiff. "I happen to love that name, and the woman who gave it to me. She's the only one that gets to use it."

"Oh? Married man?"

"I should be so lucky."

That led to a pause. Nalia shifted, resting her head on his chest, looking straight at his chin, where the fox resigned to looking at the ceiling. "Sounds like a story."

"Don't pry."

Another pause. "You're so prickly."

"I'm not a morning person."

"Well, lucky for you, I have enough morning zeal for the both of us. I'll stop by the market and get us some breakfast, you just relax and cheer up."

Elymas had no answer, and didn't watch her as she got out of bed. Every ounce of lust was gone from his body.

When she left the bedroom, he shortly followed suit. He got fully dressed, even putting on his armor. To be fully covered in Amazonian heat and humidity was hell, but he needed to hide himself. Shame would consume him otherwise. He was used to the armor anyway.

Once he was dressed, he stepped out of the bedroom, into the rest of the house. And it was, simply, the rest of the house. Two rooms, all anyone needs. He blearily scratched his nose.

Silver. His fur turned silver, his illusion wore off overnight.

He didn't notice in the darkness of the bedroom. He could see fine, but color in that lighting was out of the question. Thankfully, even though his alligator partner could see just as well, no color for her either. Very close call, he thought, as he turned around to rummage through his bags. As before, he looked at the red painted symbols on each. Realization hit him. "That was my last one, I used it coming into town," he recalled to himself.

His hands were set back, returning hastily to one of the pots he'd already looked at. He didn't waste much time. Back into the main room he went, and slammed the small vessel against the table. Shards of clay cut his hands, and the fluid guts of it splattered in a too-regular sheen. "Cauldron," he commanded, and from the puddle rose his cauldron, stuffed with spell components. He got sick of walking with it, a shortcut was necessary. Having lived out its use, the liquid evaporated.

There are better ways to activate one of his arcane suspensions, he's been simply throwing them all this time, but his heart masochistically craved pain.

He hurried. From the cauldron he dumped its contents, and hurriedly selected the components needed for another illusion spell. He'd used his last one coming into town. He needed to brew, and he needed to brew quickly.

He tucked his cauldron under his arm, and whirled around to get water from any well he could find outside. The door opened a second before he got there, and Nalia entered casually with a pair of mangos, just wearing her loin cloth. "Freshly picked," she announced with pride, and tossed one towards Elymas.

Elymas reflexively caught it, but he couldn't help but stare at Nalia in shock.

"... What?" She eventually asked, eating her mango skin and all.

"... What?" Elymas repeated.

They stared at each other, one shocked and one confused, until Nalia gave him a knowing look. "You didn't know I knew you were a witch, did you?"

"How?" Elymas asked immediately as his racing thoughts were given something to work with.

"You were walking around with two sacks full of arcane suspensions. Any witch could spot you at a glance. And you were wearing an illusion."

"Any witch? You're a witch?"

"Sure am!" She announced, beaming. "I'm glad you didn't look through my things, but if you did there's spell components in pretty much every bit of storage you see. And a cauldron, and these really cool glass tubes I'm trying to find a use for."

"Okay... So-"

"Hang on," he was cut off. "So if you didn't notice I was a witch, then you didn't notice..." She pounded her bare, featureless reptilian chest.

Elymas took a second. "You were wearing an illusion too. No, I didn't notice."

"Cannot believe I put those on for you and you didn't even notice. Men!"

"Well there's something you're not getting, I can't 'see' magic like you seem to be able to. Your chest was real, my body was real, and as far as I can tell from the outside those sacks could be filled with rocks for all I can tell. I know spells generate waste and I know arcane suspensions slowly release their magic, I've picked up on that, but how can you possibly sense that?"

Nalia's mouth hung open about half way through his explanation. "How?" It was her turn to ask. "There's no way one of the most powerful witches I've ever seen can't even sense magic. Who taught you?"

Elymas' heart skipped a beat when he heard that word, "powerful." In a good or bad way, he couldn't tell. "Well, nobody. I taught myself."

"You did _not_ ," the other witch protested. "Self-taught witches combine the wrong components and/or get devoured by their magic. How on Earth were you able to brew a summoning spell, of all damn things, into an arcane suspension, and then casually use it a second ago to summon your cauldron? I can barely do that and I sure as hell don't do it to summon my cauldron."

"I don't know what to tell you. I turn it into an arcane suspension, release it later. I noticed that magic is seriously temperamental, but it's not exactly hard to deal with."

"What!? It's _REALLY_ hard to deal with! Come on, I'm taking you to the coven. We can eat on the way."

With that, Nalia's mangoless hand clutched Elymas' mangoless hand, and she dragged him out of the house. He walked with her, but struggled against her grip. "Come on, you don't need to hold my hand," he protested.

"Right," Nalia agreed, and let him go. "I got excited."

"How old are you, anyway?" Elymas asked, finally biting into his mango. He didn't mind the skin either, apparently that's just how they eat it. "You look my age but you sure as hell talk with a lot of authority."

"It's a skill!" Nalia bragged. A candidate for a first-class witch in the coven needs to talk with real confidence! "As for my age, I'm 26, so probably like a couple years your senior, right?"

Elymas paused. "Yeah, pretty close."

He paused again, but Nalia looked at him expectantly. He coughed. "I'm eighteen."

"What!? I'm too young to be a cougar!"

The silver witch couldn't help but sigh in relief. He was worried she was going to make him feel guilty for being good at magic again. He knew exactly how it felt to train for years and be completely shown up by someone with talent.

"Speaking of which... If you could see through my illusion, why'd you still sleep with me?"

"A very favorable ratio of handsomeness and power," Nalia answered honestly. "The only witches with your kind of power are geezers and hags. I see you come along with your youth and giant dick and I'm so into that."

Elymas coughed at that last part, and his fur puffed slightly with embarrassment. "Yeah, right," he agreed passively.

Silence stretched between the two for some seconds. The sound of their own footsteps and the city's idle noise offset it, but Nalia was the first to feel a need to fill it.

"Plus, you know, you're not exactly bad looking."

Elymas immediately reached up to touch his cleft. "I'm not?"

"You're not. Look at yourself for real some time. You're not big but you're toned as all hell, there's the whole junk situation I already mentioned, you have a seriously handsome face, and your fur is really cool silver, which I've never seen."

Those last two stuck with him. Seriously handsome, really cool. For a moment, his guilt was completely outshined by joy, and a bright grin pushed his hand away from his face. He'd heard those two things from Nicty all his life, but hearing it from someone else made him accept it. Maybe she was right. "Thanks," he offered in return.

When he looked away from Nalia, he felt it come back, that guilt. His heart was light, but that pit reformed slowly in his stomach. Two battling moods forced him into cruel melancholy, and the pair continued their walk in silence.

* * *

One month passed from that encounter. This time, Elymas woke up in a dorm, his cot one of 11 more empty ones. His armor was all that was in the trunk at his feet, as well as some clothing and even a piece of jewelry.

He met the coven, Nalia explained his gift to the present leadership, and they agreed to teach him formally. But he would have to join the coven. Of course they wanted him as a member, that much would be reasonable, the powerful witch guy joining their organization would be highly desirable. What he found contemptuous was that they wanted him to take an entrance exam, and a scheduled one at that, for which he had to wait a month. A farce, he thought. The pitfalls of bureaucracy were foreign to him.

They at least had the sense to allow him to use the apprentices' dorms, he thought as he got up. But not the sense to allow him to bring his witch's things. Why can't he bring his witch's things to an actual coven of witches? Who the hell knows. If there is a God of senselessness, Elymas cursed their name a thousandfold.

He reached into his trunk, and pulled out a loincloth. A new one, which wasn't hastily fashioned from hide out in the jungle. The bright side of staying inone, civilized place, he got to buy new things with the money he saved before he left home. He still had it, after all, waiting to be summoned in a cache out there somewhere, along with his spear.

Once that was tied around his waist, he meandered outside. Outside the dorm, that is, into a short hall. The coven was situated completely underground, so it had the rare privilege of being literally and metaphorically underground.

"Good morning, Madame Aki," he greeted as he wandered outside. Madame Aki was a bovine, an old one, and the coven's 'doorman.' One of those powerful hags Nalia mentioned, who was content to spend every waking moment in that spot writing some nonsense. Elymas couldn't read the language, nobody could, but such a sedentary and strong person was an ideal guard.

She didn't look up at the greeting. Normal.

"Do you happen to know when exactly the initiation is?"

"Whenever the other prospective apprentice arrives," Aki answered.

"I see. Then I'll sit with you."

With that, as promised, Elymas took a seat on the floor nearby, his back against one of the many wooden supports. He crossed his legs, and stilled his mind in mediation. He picked up meditation seriously soon after he began living here, to still his mood swings. And he did still his mood swings, he could think about Nicte without wanting to run back to Tikal and face whatever punishment awaited him just to see her. But now his blood just felt like ice, constantly.

There's no telling how long he contemplated nothing, not even the passing of time was on his mind. The sound of footsteps coming down the cellar-like stairs outside were what slowly filled his void with reality. When he opened his eyes, a young golden eagle, perhaps his age, burst through the door with gusto.

She was gorgeous. Her mottled feathers, her beak, her eyes, her body, everything. She even had a mammal-like chest beneath the shawl-like covering she wore. Elymas didn't care, and he didn't care he didn't care. She's completely his type, and not an ounce of lust or curiosity. Interesting, he thought. For the best. He won't betray Nicty again.

"Lady Niko," Aki greeted. That caught Elymas' attention more than the bird.

"Yes, it's me," Niko greeted cheerfully. "Where's the initiation so we can get this over with?"

"In a moment," Aki stood. "I'll go get the proctor. In the mean time, you go sit beside Elymas."

As Aki stood and shambled off, Elymas' neutral gaze met Niko's glare. " _Him?"_ She asked, to no answer.

"Hmmph. I can smell you from here."

"What do I smell like?"

"Idiot."

"Interesting take. Sit wherever you like, but it won't look good for you to ignore your very first order."

She huffed again, but silently acknowledged the validity of his point when she sat beside him. Elymas returned to meditation, but he felt eyes on him.

He opened his eyes, and met hers immediately. Neither shied away.

"Do you know who I am?" She demanded.

"Lady Niko, or so I've heard."

"That's my name, dumbass. I was asking if you knew my father and my mother were both some of the strongest witches this coven has seen? If you don't know that then you don't know I'm the union of two very long lines of world-class witches. I shouldn't even have to take this test."

"I've been saying that same thing, but it's useless to fume about it. I would have wasted the past month if I did.

"Oh, boo-hoo, you had to wait a whole month. Try 15 years! I could have aced this test when I was five, but I had to wait another 15 years to be allowed to join. The age minimum is there for talentless commoners like you!"

Elymas paused. He wasn't even annoyed, and that fact annoyed him more than her taunting. It was one thing to not want to fuck someone he just laid eyes on, that's fairly normal, but nothing in the face of outright abuse couldn't be a good thing. He was tempted to break free, but he knew if he did that guilt would be waiting for him.

He eventually answered. "Interesting, trained your whole life with such a noble lineage and they wouldn't make an exception for you. Must be frustrating. But with that in mind, don't take it out on me, or anyone else. We could be classmates for years, and that'll be much better for both of us if we don't hate each other.

Niko didn't like being understood. "As if you'd pass this test, and if you do, you wouldn't ever be able to keep up with me. They'd probably forget they even need to teach you within a day."

"You can stop," came a voice from down another hall. A male one, which Elymas never heard before. That'd be the first male witch he'd met here.

The man that appeared was a komodo dragon. Very tall, visibly strong. Apparently he got the same memo Elymas did, dressed in only a loincloth. That is, unless one counts a wealth of black tattoos and silver jewelry as dress.

The two initiates stood, Niko with a "Sir Guln," and Elymas with a nod.

Guln wordlessly motioned for them to follow, and they wordlessly complied. Niko was at least willing to fall in line, Elymas noted. They passed Aki on their way down that hall, and entered the room at its end.

It was an enormous underground chamber, with a domed roof that shimmered with enchantments, which held the roof up. Rectangular slits were carved into the walls, leading into dark nothing from which watching eyes glinted. In the center of a dirt floor was a small table, around which were two chairs. In the center was a fire, perhaps not the best thing to have on a wooden table, but the wooden table didn't seem to mind. Around the fire were a number of spell components, of great variety.

"Interesting arena," Elymas commented.

"We can't have witches fighting outside, a compromise had to be made," Guln explained as he sat at one of the chairs. "Anyway, I want both of you, from the materials in front of me, to create the strongest spell you can."

"I'll go first," Niko called before, as promised, running up first. She took a seat, and considered the components before her.

He couldn't see what she put in, but she told him with her chant.

"From nature's palm I accept thorn and banana,

conjure lightning from my mana!"

Her chant completed, a few seconds passed, and a ball of lightning coalesced from the rising smoke. And, naturally, flew straight at Elymas head. He dove out of the way as the thing crashed into the wall formerly behind him, leaving a jagged scorch mark that quickly faded away.

Elymas dusted himself off while Niko snickered. "Oops, lost control!"

"Sorry to hear that. Hopefully Sir Guln and everyone else don't judge you too harshly for it."

She wasn't so amused as she looked around, remembering where she was. She got up with a huff, going to stand at the wall while Elymas took her seat.

He recognized not one of the ingredients. He should have known when he had no idea what on Earth a banana was, but he'd hoped for at least something. Every last plant, fruit, meat, and mineral was one he'd never laid eyes on before.

"Interesting collection. All foreign, I assume?"

Guln nodded.

"I see. So someone who was born and raised in the Amazon, without the resources that, say, a highly privileged witch family might have, would be at a severe disadvantage." Niko snickered again. "They'd need some kind of ability or sense to immediately see what components do when mixed together to have any chance. But if they had that kind of ability, they could make it pretty far on their own, couldn't they?"

Guln nodded again.

"I agree, someone like that could make it very far, in theory. But sadly that's not me, I have no idea what any of these do. Interesting diagnostic though."

Elymas reached up, and plucked an eyelash from his eye. "Sir Guln, komodo dragons have venom, don't they? Could you do me a big favor and spit some of that into the fire, please?"

Guln obliged with little hesitation, and Elymas dropped his eyelash in.

"Reptile venom and silver eyelash,

Reduce my enemies down to ash."

The fire swelled, bursting into the air like a flaming geyser. It swirled up there, coiling in the ceiling like a burning seraph, then lunged downward, straight at Niko's face just as she did to him. His arm arced after it, as if it were a long kite waving on a pole. Unlike her, he showed mercy, letting that flame angle into a sharp turn that paraded past the watching eyes within the wall. No faces were illuminated by the flame, he noted. His serpent took a final flourish in the air, then dove back into the fire it came from. Interestingly, this extinguished both the spell and the mundane fire.

Guln nodded, stood, and left. Elymas heard footsteps filing out of whatever room encircled this one, and the glinting eyes disappeared.

Niko took a seat across from him with a sigh. Elymas grinned as she joined him, and she grinned back.

"Guess we're going to be classmates!" She said cheerily. "I hope it'll be like the childrens' dorms most people get raised in. I always wondered what that'd be like."

Elymas nodded, for a second their eyes met in cold understanding. "I hope so too," he agreed. "Don't worry, I don't snore."

Niko fake laughed at that small joke. It was a good fake laugh, at least.

"By the way, since we have a minute to ourselves, I'm sorry about the way we met. We were both anxious about the test," Elymas apologized.

"Don't worry about it, we'll get along fine from now on!"

Elymas leaned back, and huffed. Fake warmth didn't melt his veins, there was still nothing. "I genuinely hope so. I'd love to be your friend, but the friendly act won't do either of us good. Everyone got a good look at how we really get along when we threw our spells at each other."

"Fine, blow our cover," she hissed. "We could have passed this part with flying colors, but fine, let everyone see how you have no respect for me, my birth, or my education."

"We'll pass," Elymas assured her. "We were both perceptive enough to notice the people in the walls, smart enough to know they didn't leave just now, and coordinated enough to work together in cheating this portion. That much is enough, all we need to do now is not attack each other."

"How do you know?" she challenged.

"Because if that's not what they're looking for this test has some weird parameters. Smart, perceptive, coordinated, unwilling to murder each other. You're allowed to agree with me, you know, I can tell you thought the same thing."

"Yeah, so what if I did?"

"So we agree. End of discussion, that's all."

"... I thought it first."

The silver witch didn't touch that. "What kind of eagle are you?"

"A golden eagle," she announced proudly. "An apex predator, natural warrior, inherently sharp mind, and wings!"

"I hope I'm allowed to say you're quite a noble bird. I'm envious."

"Hmm, I suppose that's only natural."

"Do they call you the Gold Witch?" He asked. "Because they call me the Silver Witch. We'd make quite an elegant class."

"They do! I suppose calling you the Silver Witch is fair, second to gold and all. That's agreeable."

Elymas suppressed a frustrated huff. Getting this girl to be friendly is a chore. "Agreeable. But, back to what I said earlier, we'll both be a lot more productive if we get along, and on principle I want to be your friend. Let's bathe together whenever Guln lets us out of here."

She crossed her chest. "You just want to bathe together because you want to see my tits, pervert!"

Elymas sighed. Three steps back. "If that's what I wanted I could have cast a windier spell. You're wearing a shawl and a loincloth. But that's beside the point." He sat straight again, and leaned in. "I love one woman in the world. Her name is Nicte, but I call her Nicty, and she calls me Ely. If I so much as glance over you, you have my express permission to kill me. And I do mean that completely literally. You won't receive even the slightest advance from me. Besides, you're not my type."

She gasped at the last sentence. "Not your type!? How dare you!? I'll disrobe before you and seduce your little dog heart with just the sight of me!"

He was a little glad she latched on to the last part, in hindsight that bit about Nicty was a little intense. "Glad we're in agreement. There's a bathhouse-inn I know, I'm friends with the owner. I have her permission to bring guests whenever I like, so you won't need to deal with any other 'talentless commoners.'"

"You just want me all to yourself," she huffed, still on that. "But fine, I do appreciate privacy. If there's one thing commoners like you are good at it's knowing when to bow your head to noble birth."

"You're wrong about one thing, by the way. You're right that I don't respect your birth or your education. I have no idea what families are big here, and I've never cared for whatever difference there is between the head of a childrens' dorm and private tutors. But I do respect you. You're obviously talented, and obviously smart. So when I try to bond with you in a private place, I'm not bowing to Lady Niko, I'm accommodating my classmate Niko. Does that make any sense to you?"

Niko was torn. On one hand, he complimented her, but disregarded everything else. Her ego was in stasis. "No. But I'll go along with it. Might as well get to know this mangy mutt while I'm stuck with him... You can obviously keep up, almost."


End file.
